


A fading reflection

by blindingx



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Morality, F/M, Listen people none of us is here for morals I am a bad and nasty person and so are you., Mirror Sex, My First Smut, Older Man/Younger Woman, This is not gay smut I was disoriented guys pls appreciate the effort, like...kind of not really but kind of angry sex, show!canon, the things i do for sin, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8246377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindingx/pseuds/blindingx
Summary: “You didn't ask it.”He reached her.“In the Godswood you didn't ask me...” It was so hard to grab those words but they were there, somewhere deep down her heart.“What was it? What didn't I ask you?”Her hand clenched into a fist. “What do I want.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own these characters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She couldn't tell what she was feeling. Winter was there, her only company in that big chamber. Lady of Winterfell she was, so the patronal chamber belonged to her. Her brother had been kind.  
 _“Half brother”_ a voice whispered somewhere in her mind. She took a deep breath, a silent breath who couldn't be heard at all. She did not intend to break the silence surrounding her. Jon was her brother and was brave and good, kind and honorable. _“And He's the King in the North_ ” the voice whispered again, smiling slyly, she almost saw the voice's face through the mirror. She bit her lip and raised her gaze to the fading reflection, illuminated by the feeble candle light.

“I am the Lady of Winterfell, Princess in the North” She thought proudly “The blood of Eddard Stark, this is my home, this is where I belong.”

She was sure she heard  _his_ laughter. 

“ _Aye, you're the Lady of Winterfell and the Princess, and you own a chamber. He's the King and he owns the North, sweetling._ ”

Turning her eyes away from the mirror she leant her hands on the wooden table, running her fingers to its cold surface. How many times did her mother touch that surface? How many times did she look at her poor father through the mirror?   
“What would they think of me if they knew?” It was her own voice now, whispering soflty but pressing heavily on her chest too; if they knew that there were voices and desires she was trying to bury inside her, somewhere between the lungs and the heart, though when she was alone at night, dark and silent, they climbed her rib cage, trying to get out, to find a subtle way out and reach her mouth and her thoughts. Was it some twisted demon who was possessing her?   
Not a demon. Him.  
He was playing with her again, like he had always done since the beginning in Kings Landing. He had been able to seed in her head some kind of reasonless faith -a sick admiration- in him since the first day, the first look, the first words and touches. It was that sparkle... Even after all she'd been through she couldn't help but think of that sparkle in his eyes.

 

“Not this time, not again.” She thought, closing her hand into a fist.

She had never seen any kind of emotion in those eyes, only that arrogant grey-green light that could have been blinding if she stared for too long. Had she been blinded?  
Maybe that sparkle was where she had put her faith in, and she had been wrong. To reach a flicker of light was a foolish mistake made by a foolish girl. Trying to grab it, hold on it like it was an anchor was just madness. So she had fallen. She payed for that mistake, the price marked every inch of her skin. She payed for her foolishness.  
 _Only a fool …_  
Maybe that was the place where she had put her faith in, and she had been wrong. To reach a flicker of light was a foolish mistake made by a foolish girl. Trying to grab it, hold on it like it was an anchor was madness. So she had fallen. She payed for that mistake, the price marked every inch of her skin. She payed for her foolishness.

_Only a fool could trust Littlefinger._

Yes, and she was no longer a foolish little girl. The night and the silence were going to fade away soon. In the morning she would tell Jon to send him away, far away from her. She was the King's sister, the Lady of Winterfell. Just like her mother before her, she would take charge of the castle and the domestic works. She would arrange orders from the kitchen to the stables, she would organize dinners and balls for any important guest. And every night she would stare at her reflection... unsatisfied. That was her reward for winning the battle. Once she was meant to be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, all she wanted was to live in the capitol, wearing the finest silks. She wanted to be loved and adored. But that was another Sansa, a child who hadn't known the meaning of loss and grief. A little girl who still had a family. The Sansa who belonged to Winterfell. But now, after all that happened...

“ _What do you want?”_

A dark silhouette was leaning before the door, its details hidden admist the shadows. She never heard him stepping inside the room so, she blinked twice to make sure it wasn't just another demon's trick. He stepped further, closing the door behind his back.

“What you're doing here? How di-”

He stopped quite distant from her, Sansa stared at him through the mirror. He bowed. Like he did when they both were in Kings Landing. Nobody bowed in front of her like he did.

“My Princess, I did not mean to disturb you.” He lift his head up and gazed towards the mirror.

“Yet here you are, disturbing me.” She tried to sound as cold as ice, hoping to be convincing.

A sharp, mocking laugh filled the room, crushing her fake placidity. She whirled in his direction. Despite the heavy fur coat she was wearing, her skin was covered in shivers. He put one hand on his chest, still smiling.

“You break my heart again, Sansa,” He said “You already crushed it some days ago, in the Godswood.”

“Did I? I've always thought it was my mother who broke your heart.”

Her words seemed to have no effects on him. Perhaps it seemed so because she could barely see his face. Perhaps because Lord Petyr of House Baelish, Lord of Harrenhal and Lord Protector of the Eyrie and the Vale never had a heart, in the end.

“Oh, yes, yes she did... but I'm not here to discuss when or which Tully girl rejected me.”

He was waiting for her to ask the reason he was there, she knew it. He loved to wait for her to ask and he loved more to give quick answers, waiting for more questions. She knew it was one of his favourite games he enjoyed to play with her. She didn't speak a word. He came closer, a few inch away from her now. She could finally see him clearly. Sansa turned away from him, staring at their reflection, waiting for him to talk.

“I am here because I wanted to say farewell to you, Princess”

A punch right in her stomach would have not let her so breathless. Her mouth was open, ready to speak though she wasn't able to say anything.

“Why?” was the only thing Sansa could say.

“I am leaving in the morning,” He shrug “I think there is nothing left in my interests here. I will return to the Vale, the North seems to have made its decision. I suppose your brother will be a good king.” Sansa remembered the words he said back in the Godswood, the revelation still gave her dizziness. Soon he'd be gone, just a memory. Jon would have been safe from him too. Now that he was King in the North, he could have been an obstacle to Petyr's pretty picture. She got up and faced him.  
Her mask was about to fall piece by piece. 

“You are taking the Knight of the Vale home too, I guess.”  
“Why do you care? The North is on your half-brother's side now.”  
“But we need a large army.”  
“You're being greedy now, Princess.”

Sansa wanted to scream. He was treating her like a little girl again and she hated it. Petyr was the one who teached her how to play, he was the only one who ever saw something more in her than just a beautiful maid. Somehow that was one of the few things she was sure about.

“You're being greedy... and smart. The Vale and the North' forces together have no rivals. Don't worry sweetling, half of the Army will stay here. We're allies now, aren't we?”

She nodded, looking at his lips. She could smell his mint-tasted breath now. Petyr moved his hand on her arm, took her hand and kissed it.

 

“I will miss you, believe me Sansa.” He said, then kissed her hand again, this time a little longer. Sansa felt dizzy, something heavy was stuck in her throat. She was feeling like someone was choking her. He slowly turned away from her, heading towards the door.  
“Wait!” Now he was looking at her “Please just...wait” she repeated, staring at the glass window. “You didn't ask it.”   
He reached her.  
“In the Godswood you didn't ask me...” It was so hard to grab those words but they were there, somewhere deep down her heart.  
“What was it? What didn't I ask you?”  
Her hand clenched into a fist.  
“What do I want.”

There it was again, the sparkle. Brighter than ever. He came closer and lift her chin up with his fingers. He catched her gaze, staring at her blue eyes like it was the very first time he had seen them. 

“You're right, I never did. I should have.” Petyr stroked her cheek. “What do you want, Sansa?”

It wasn't him who was frightening her but that indefinite feeling wrapping around her. It felt good, every word she released in that moment was making her feel terribly good. It was something she felt every time she was standing next to one of the most dangerous man in Westeros. Ramsay's eyes flashed for a brief moment in her mind, she sent them away. She would never let something like that happen again. Ramsay was dead, she won. She played and she won. That crawling awareness had almost take charge of her now. She knew what she wanted, she still wasn't strong enough to tell him aloud though.  
Petyr's eyes were on fire and she enjoyed warming up near those flames.

“What do you want?” he asked again with a sharp tone.  
Sansa took a breath and caressed the mockingbird pin with her fingers. “I want to play the game.”

“Oh, my sweet Princess,” he took her hand away gently. “The game is dangerous and you know it. I won't risk your safety again.”

“The past is gone for good. I won't mourn its departure. He is dead and a dead man can't hurt me.”

“That is true. Yes I could teach you, and this time I could do it better but how do I know if I can trust you? You could betray me for the benefit of your brother.”

Sansa chocked a fake laugh.  
“Since when you care about trusting people? You know I have the wits, you said so yourself!” 

This time he seemed pretty impressed. He offered his hand, she grabbed it. Petyr lead her to the chair and made her sit. Once again Sansa was in front of those two reflections. He leant his hands on her shoulders.

“Look at yourself Sansa. Only by admitting what we are we can get what we want."

She placed her thumb on the mirror while her heart was smashing against her ribcage.

“You know what I want. You know what I am. But now I ask you, sweetling, what are you?”

He made her coat fur slip slowly on her arms, until it was on the floor, then he moved it with a quick kick. The night gown she was wearing was made of white silk, the candles' light making it almost transparent, exposing every inch of her body. The fabric flowed on her skin like a river flows through some soft ground. Despite the thin coverage she didn't feel cold. Petyr closed the gap between them, held her from behind and crossing his hands on her stomach.  
“I am just...” She paused and glanced at herself. Her eyes were different, there was something different that she already saw. A different light. Her mouth's corner raised a bit when she touched his cheekbone with he back of her hand. The look he gave her was something rare. He never looked truly excited about anything, but that look was just for her, because of her. That gaze was starving.

She was the prey, she knew it. That hunger was craved by her whole body and mind.

“I am like you.” She said finally “I want to be like you.”

“I know it.” He whispered to her ear and held her tight, leaving her almost out of breath. He left his grip on her and shifted her hair, her breasts covered by fair auburn locks. He took her face between his hands and leant his forehead on hers.

“The shame is suffocating, isn't it? You aren't even able to admit to yourself.” he knelt before her and dragged the chain where she sat towards his direction “Now, do you wanna play the game?”

She wondered if that wasn't already part of the game and whether she was playing or just being swallowed by it.

“I'll teach you and I'll let you play the game...” He put both his hands on her knees, cunning as a snake preparing to strangle a rabbit, he said “But what will you give me in return?”

What was going to happen was clear to Sansa, she had prepared herself to it way before that moment. Her heart was still trying to warn her with all the almighty sound it was making against her chest. She could hear it shout “Run away you fool” but it was too late. Even if prepared, she wasn't sure if she was really ready for it but, she wanted to do it all the same. It was the only she had leverage on the man and she was ready to lose it and try to gain what she wanted. Or she wanted to risk everything for that one night, but that option was harder to accept. She wanted to feel again, even only for a second, to have the charge. She wanted that look on her too.

“I'll give you what you want.”

“Are you sure?” He reached her eyes, she only nodded and she let her sleeves slip. First her arms, then her breasts and finally her whole chest were naked, pale as summer snow.

“Oh Sansa,” The man murmured on his knees “You've got the Lord of Harrenhal right at your feet, can you see how I adore you?” his hand pressed against her stomach, the coldness of his rings against her skin made her wince a little. Still looking her in the eyes he lifted her gown to her thighs. Sansa clutched the chair's edges. Petyr delicately grabbed her ankle and placed a kiss on it.

His hand wide open went up, slithering on every inch of her porcelain skin, reached her thigh and with both his hands gripped it tight. He squeezed her flesh, the kissed never stopped. She felt every move his tongue made, greedily lapping her while a sense of heat invaded her head, every time Sansa felt Petyr's lips on her skin she believed she was about to fall into an abyss.

“What man would kneel like this the way I do, huh?”

His voice was low and hoarse, to whom it belonged, whether Littlefinger or Petyr, she could never tell, not that she cared that much in that moment. It was pleasing hear him talking like that.

“Spread your leg, not too much, just a little, sweetling.”

She obeyed without making any question.

“Good girl.” What he saw gave him great satisfaction, she could see it by the smile he made. “You are going to be very good at learning, and one day...” His finger reached her womanhood, the bare contact was hardly sensed, but Sansa trembled all the same. He noticed it and looked up at her, raising her chin.

"Don't worry Princess,” he reassured her, “I am not going to hurt you.”

His voice now sounded soft and warm. Part of her trusted him and was trying to make her relax, the other one was still wary. Every day they spent together was like that, Sansa realised. She had never completely rejected him. That was what they were: a contradiction. She felt herself flush as his hands reached her breasts.   
The golden rings on her skin made her shiver. Petyr seemed to float in a state of grace as he traced circles on her nipples with his thumbs.   
A sensation full of enjoyment struck her in the spine, a slow and sweet torture that she loved, it was impossible to hide her feelings for she had lost control of every part of her body. As a silent whine slipped from her lips, Petyr wrapped his arms around her, his skilled hands wandering now on her bare back with his face sunk in her chest. Sansa watched him rising up a little so he could kiss her. She found herself pressed on his chest, the fine golden laces of his doublet were tickling.

It was different from the other kisses they shared. Sansa moaned while their mouth were still tied, she never felt wanted like that. They wake he took her mouth was something beyond desire, it felt more like religious devotion, but none of the prayers she knew was as strong and devoted as the way he was taking possession of her tongue. He left her lips, leaving her with her eyes shut and her mouth opened, and slowly went down, leaving wet marks on her chin, on her necks, her collarbones. He eventually reached her breast and without hesitation began to tease her eagerly, licking first the outline of her aching nipple, then its center. Her fingers curled around the wood, she shut her eyes again and in her head the world ceased existing, anyone could have get in the room and she wouldn't have noticed. Some kind of agitation, a strange sense of need was growing up underneath her stomach and another moan came out. Cold shivers running all over her body and a warming weight between her thighs.  
Petyr catched her off the guard when he stopped his tongue.

“Are you getting wet for me Sansa? Are you enjoying this?”

Red cheeks lit her face “Yy-yes” She stuttered, then she took his hand and she tucked it beneath the white silk until it reached the wetness. A pleased grin showed up on his thin lips as he touched the fruit of his patient former work.

“Spread your legs sweetling, will you? I want to take delight from the sight of your pretty cunt.”

She did as he asked, approaching her hips closer to his face. She inhaled sharp air when she felt his finger pressing softly against her. Where she once felt warmth now she was burning up. She barely managed to hold her body from shaking, trying in vain to remain still. His finger moved slowly just as his tongue before and she bit her lip from that thought. As his finger moved against her she couldn't help but follow the movement with her hips, gritting her teeth to hold back the moans.  
But Petyr slow movements changed, they were getting faster. He rubbed hard his thumb against her and Sansa felt like melting.

Petyr never stopped watching her. The more she whined, the more she moved helpless under his touch, the more he seemed to be pleased. She believed he was undoing her with every touch, like soft clay, powerless, waiting to be made again between his hands.  
He stopped for a while, enjoying how she was barely breathing.

“Do you want me to continue?”

“Please.” She sounded desperate but the lack of his touch was aching. They shared another hungry glance, and while still drowning in the blue of her eyes, he continued what he started, using first one finger, then another. Curling and rubbing hard against her, Sansa's laments increased, her heart was about to explode in pieces as that strange, new sensation flowed inside her. Her hips kept moving towards his touch, now out of control. She didn't know what those feelings were. Pain, pleasure, rage.  
They were tearing her apart and yet she didn't want them to end. The increasing ache was possessing her whole. The certainty that if she released that last piece of resistance she was trying to keep, she would have woke up the whole castle, was addicting. On the edge of crying, just when she was about to lose it, he moved his touch away from her.

“Stand up, sweetling.” He commanded, and Sansa, still aching from some kind of incompleteness underneath her, obeyed and watched him take her seat.

“Undo my trousers.” 

So she bent and easily loosed the laces, dragging them to the floor. Petyr's erection was now visible, thick and pulsating. Sansa felt her cheeks burning up again.

“Come here, Sansa. Sit on me.” She hesitated for a moment but eventually placed herself on his legs. Petyr took her by her hips, making her rise a bit. She kept her eyes low, holding on the wooden table. She heard him fixing his position and suddenly she felt the tip of his cock skimming barely inside her. She inhaled and swallowed, a big void inside her howling so hard she was afraid it would suck her in. Shakes made it harder for her to stand still, waves of need begging her for more.

“Now move, Princess. I want you to ride my cock.” He whispered against her naked back. She began to move, her flesh wrapping Petyr's erection while her legs touched his in the process. She could barely contain her moans while moving on him first insecure, then more firmly as the pleasure began to possess her movements, trying to take it in as much as She could. After a while Petyr started to follow her with his hips, his hits strong and sharp, grabbing her breasts, driving her crazy. 

“D-don't ss-stop.” She barely managed to whisper, shaking as he found a sweet spot underneath her. "Please." She added with a sucked breath. Petyr movements slowed down again. It was too damn slow. 

“Do you want me to go on?” He was mocking her, inflicting her that insufferable delight with his meticulous rythm. “Do you want it harder? Faster?” Sansa nodded whining, moving faster on his length, desperately attempting to reach that spot. Petyr almost stopped moving.

“Do you want to play the game?”

“Yyes I d-do.” A sudden hit, deep and sharp, shook her, with her mouth wide open she screamed. She couldn't resist anymore, she freed all the groans and moanings and they were getting louder and louder. She kept moving with frustration building inside her since the man behind stopped again.

“Do you think you can win me in this game, Princess?”

“Yes I do” Sansa gnashed her teeth, she was burning up, sweating and gasping. He laughed and hit harder against her sweet spot. The sounds she was making were not human, he covered her mouth with his hand. “Now" he whispered in her hear "this is not how an apprentice should behave. I should punish you. I should leave you like this.” 

“Please don't." Sansa was begging him. "I can't beat you. I can't." Did she really think she could?

“Yes, now that's how I like you” He sounded satisfied and started again with the slow movements, keeping her mouth covered, her breath absorbed by his hot skin.

“I want you to look at the mirror. Look at you. Look at us, Sansa.”

Their reflection were blurred and looked like dancing flames. Petyr grabbed her hair. His grey-green eyes shone through the glass. He was going faster and harder, just like he promised. Sansa senses flowed pumping every vein with hot blood as she moved towards him and did the same. The rhythm didn't cease and finally she heard Petyr moaning softly, blowing warm breath on her back.

“Just like that Princess” he mouthed against her skin. Unable to keep her legs from trembling, Sansa felt the heat filling her head. Petyr realeased a roar and got up, holding her waist with his arm. She found herself bent over, leaning on the table, moaning against his hand. Everything was hot.

His skin on hers made her vision blurry.

“Look at you, Princess. You profane your ancestral castle by getting fucked in your parent's room by me, the same room where once your mother and father used to sleep.” He leant in so he could say to her ear “and you enjoy it.”

Sansa freed one last moan which echoed on Petyr's cupped hand. Everything in her seemed to blossom and burn and tear her apart all at once. The shivers were still dancing on her skin when Petyr, still slipping in and outside her, moaned, holding her tighter. She watched him crumble on her back, both of them breathless and covered in sweat and humid, thick pleasure. He giggled as they both stared at the reflecting glass and placed a kiss on her shoulder, smelling and stroking her hair.

 

The wax dripped as the feeble flame swayed in the dark and silence filled the room up again. They didn't say a word and turned away from each other. Petyr tied the laces of his velvet trousers, composing himself as he looked into the mirror. She wore the slaves of her night gown, the heat which had colored her face before was fading away, leaving place to night chills. Winterfell was still sleeping outside, covered in cold snow sheets and cradled by winds' lullabies.   
Petyr took the coat fur from the floor and wrapped her in it. The soft and warm fabric gave her relief, she clasped its edges and reached the window to enjoy the quite night outside the window for a little while, trying in vain to avoid Petyr's eyes and his voice.

“Leave.” She said, turning towards him. He had been watching her without speaking a word, Sansa realised. She believed there was nothing left to see on her since he had stripped her of everything. His voice had permeated to the bones. But he was there, staring at her in admiration.  
He went closer and kissed her nose.

“We have so much to discuss Princess. I'll write you as soon as I can. Prepare to leave Winterfell when I'll tell you, there are some matters that are waiting for us in the Riverlands and I need you to be with me.”

She just nodded. He headed towards the door and disappeared in the shadows.  
She wanted to plunge in the bathtub but her bones refused the idea, so she threw herself on the bed. Once again Petyr Baelish left her with a tons of questions. Did he lie? Would he really write to her?  
That prospective hit her in the stomach. Knowing that there was a chance of never meeting him again hurt her way more. She wanted to play the game and she was good at it, but not when it came to him. The inability to explain what happened in that room, the lack of any reason or excuse was the proof. Was that part of the game already? It didn't matter.

“ _You have lost._ ” whispered that old voice in her head.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok first of all if you got here thank you for reading my filthy crap! I am a bad persone and so are you, yup.  
> So just wanted to say that this fic is a big deal for me since I never wrote in english (thanks to my friend Sara who helped me step by step in this, like she's the best Beta in the universe thanks <333) and I never wrote PXS (actually I've only ever written gay stuff but here we are). I was never sure about choosing show or book canon, so this time I picked the show canon. I hope one day I'll be able to work on the books one but it's a big deal, in the books this relationship is full of undertones and shades that I adore and I don't think I am ready to work on it. I don't want to ruin it or something. Well of course you might have found some books element in the story tho. Well, that's it, I really hope you enjoyed it!


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